Revenge is best served out cold?
by Sarcastic Kittenz
Summary: D'Artagnan in the first episode tries desperately to avenge his father; but what if the fight he had with Athos didn't go as he had hoped. When the adrenaline settles: the grief takes over.
1. Fight me or die on your knees

I am back, back again. Starting small as always, the more responses the more chapters. Do not own the character, this is for non-commercial use. Many thanks. - Not been checked, beware mistakes.

\- X -

His father lay fading in D'Artagnans' arms; the blood oozed out of several stab wounds covering his lower torso, soaking his already torn jacket before seeping into D'Artagnans trousers coating it with a thick sticky crimson. How had things spun out of control so fast?

It had been an exhausting day, the rain had started only a few hours before and was now becoming quite heavy- the water dripped off their clothes as it started to poor, stabbing their skin with an icy blast.

As a result, they found themselves seeking shelter in a nearby tavern. It had been a successful ride so far and they only had a few hours journey left before reaching the grand city of Paris. However, D'Artagnan noticed that his father was showing signs of weakening with the every passing minute. Therefore, (and noting his father's age), he had insisted that they stop for the night. It had been quiet in the tavern with many vacancies. Either they didn't have any customers due to the weather or it's remote location made it a less applicable stop for travellers.

D'Artagnan took the horse barn securing them in place with large bond ropes. He had almost finished when the sound of hurried hooves sounded outside the large oak doors. Ignoring it, thinking it was just another traveller he finished knotting the bounds Before he had a chance to react, the doors burst open shaking the frames revealing uniformed, musketeer soldiers. Armed and resentful they advanced gun pointed directly at his chest. That was only the beginning of D'Artagnan's nightmare...

It had been only been a day since his father's passing. The shock mixed with adrenaline hadn't quite subsided prolonging the grieving process, his only emotion since the incident had been the lust for revenge and that was exactly what he planned to get.

Reaching the gates of Paris city, his father's dying words haunted his every thought: "'a 'thos betrayed the cr-rown, find him and br-ring him to ju...stice...". It made his blood boil with rage: 'who was this Athos? Why did he kill his father? I will bring him to his knees' D'Artagnan repeated to himself.

Later that day he reached the Garrison. It wasn't quite as he had imagined, he didn't have time to take in detail when a huge pain erupted in his side. It wasn't the first time it had happened since leaving the tavern. D'Artagnan had shrugged it off as a cramp but it was steadily getting worse- felt like the was drowning. "-right?" He could hear someone talking, his vision was still crossed in places but the pain had now gone and he was able to stand up straight: looking into the eyes of the Stranger. "Are you alright?" The young man in front of him repeated, his face contorted, worry engrained in his expression. He was reactively tall, with a beard so well kept it seemed only to exist in dreams. A large floppy hat situated on his head shielded his eyes from too much unnecessary attention.

"I'm Fine" D'Artagnan announced, "I am looking for Athos, can you point me in his direction." The stranger looked at him, his brows furrowed. Before the man had a chance to answer a deep voice penetrated from behind him.

"I am Athos, state your business here." A rugged man, with a snarled cowl, stepped up behind him.

Spinning on his heel, D'Artagnan composed himself before continuing."I am Charles D'Artagnan, you killed my father, prepare to fight. One of us dies here." Raising his sword, proud of his response he began to prepare himself.

"I will not fight you, I know nothing of what you speak of. I did not kill our father, you are mistaken" Athos stood there, limited emotion plastered on his face, besides a small twitch of annoyance on his forehead. He had a splitting hangover and now there was some kid demanding a sword fight...just his day.

"Then why in my father's last words did he name you? Now Fight me or die on your knees!" D'Artagnan shouted, rage spilling over his entire body. He would not loose, he would avenge his father if it killed him.

"You are making a big mistake: prepare yourself, boy." Athos finally gave in, he had no intention of killing the boy, just teach him a lesson.

They started to duel. Surprised at how well the boy was fighting, Athos decided to play attack to try and tire him out. Despite his effort, there seemed to be no giving in. At least that was until D'Artagnan stumbled forward, grabbing his stomach, sword still positioned in his hand in a desperate attempt to block Athos. However, it was no use, his movement became sluggish. Unlike before, his vision started to darken, as he grabbed his head with his free hand and started to tilt backwards, his feet following him like an intoxicated lunatic.

Completely unaware of the situation, Athos began to advance forward only to skid to a halt when Aramis came rushing forward from his seat grabbing a hold of the boy as

he started to decent to the ground- sword falling to the earth with a clatter.

TBC.

Will he be okay? Got an idea for how you want the next scene to go? Let me know in the review. Bye.


	2. Revenge is best served out cold?

Was in the mood to write so I did. Thank you for a fantastic response. I have taken into consideration the reviews and scripted this chapter accordingly. I was not sure where Aramis' lodging are so I made it up. Enjoy.

 _-X-_

 _A rough coarse hand grabbed D'Artagnan's shoulder; yanking him forward as he received a large blow to his abdomen. Everything was moving so fast for his mind to catch up. What was going on?_

 _The rain was still hammering down, the ground was forming a slippery swamp as he was thrown forcefully by a hooded figure into its callous grip._

 _With a dazed look he glanced up to see 2 musketeers; that is when he heard it. A gunshot._

 _Fearing the worst he shot up grabbing the first man, wrenching his weapon from him. Twisting around he grasped the gun belonging to the accomplice; head butting him before shooting the figure rising up from the floor. It was then that the man he had hit struck again, only, this time, higher up. He could hear a slight crack and there was an explosion of pain erupt from his ribs. Backing up he grabbed the sword from the ground and ran him through before staggering after the other men a few metres around the corner who had mounted their horses making a break for it._

 _Tending to a small cut on his arm he turned round to see his father emerging from the inn. "I couldn't catch up to them," D'Artagnan said with defeat. However, receiving no reply he looked up just in time to see his father falling towards him, the force sending them both towards the ground. D'Artagnan took the impact with a hiss, rolling his father over with concern ignoring the ache._

" _Father?" Noticing a stab wound to his stomach he immediately applied pressure. "Father!" lightly tapping his father's face to get his attention. "Look at me." he demanded only to receive a slight groan and these faithful words: "'a 'thos betrayed the cr-rown, find him and br-ring him to ju...stice..." along with his father's last breath..._

"Father!" Awakening with a startled gaze, his eyes darted around the room, his arms mimicking the position of his father's lifeless body had been only a few hours before. Sitting slowly up he became aware of the situation. He was lying on his back in a soft bed; the room quite large with an oak wardrobe and other signature bedroom furniture.

Memories of the fight between himself and Athos plagued his memory.

Noticing the room was empty, feeling rather uncomfortable since he didn't recognise it, he pushed himself off the bed only to double over in pain. It was then it struck him, he was bare-chested, a large bandage was wrapped neatly around his ribs, beneath was a very large black and purple bruise that littered his pale stomach. Intrigued to see the damage he prodded the bruise instantly regretting it. Although, upon further inspection, he deemed it okay to move around. There didn't seem to be any bleeding and there was another bandage on his arm where he had caught the end of a blade, but overall if he wasn't dead he was fine.

'A 'thos betrayed the cr-rown, find him and br-ring him to ju...stice...' His father's words rung over and over in his skull numbing the pain enough for him to grab his shirt which had been placed over the back of the chair and limped over to the door. He was GOING to find Athos and end this once and for all.

Wrenching the door open he was met with a small corridor like balcony which overlooked the garrison. He could hear voices, catching small words like "Awake" and "Lunatic" as he started to walk down the hall away from the voices in the hopes to reach the steps before they arrived. He hadn't made it very far when he heard a voice behind him. "What the...well guess he is awake." and then another: "What are you doing moving around you have broken 3 of your ribs and have mass bruising to your torso!"

D'Artagnan wanted to turn around and demand why they cared so much for a stranger who had tried to kill them. But he couldn't master the breath to breathe properly, let alone talk. Shaking, his wrist moved up to his chest as he backed into the wall. 'What was going on?' He thought sliding down the wooden post. 'He was fine...he was...fi...'

Aramis and Porthos ascended the stairs up to the Garrison lodgings, after leaving Athos to explain the situation to Treville (who quite frankly was just as confused as the rest of them), they headed up to check on D'Artagnan. After the stunt he had pulled earlier before collapsing at Athos' feet without warning; they had decided it best to put him in Aramis' lodgings to question him later feeling it was best to create some form of separation between the boy and Athos. Upon arriving at the hall leading to his room they noticed the door was ajar and a humble figure was 'attempting' to leave.

"What the...well, guess he is awake." Cackled Porthos in response to Aramis' earlier question of: 'I wonder if he is awake yet'. Aramis ignored his comment, instead calling down the hall.

"What are you doing moving around you have broken 3 of your ribs and have mass bruising to your torso!" Receiving no reply, with the sight of the figure doubling over his back hitting the wall and a hand on his chest as he slid to the floor, broke Aramis into a run, closely followed by Porthos.

Aramis reached D'Artagnan first trying to reassure the boy when he realised he was crying his breathing laboured.

D'Artagnan cracked his eyes open again only to find a blurry figure crouched over him, pulling his chin up so he was looking into its face. "D'Artagnan c...hea...me? But it was no use, it was falling on deaf ears as he closed his eyes again to the comforting dark.

-x-

TBC, any ideas? let me know :P


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